Life After War
by AdmitULuvMe
Summary: Picks up right where the last book leaves off. Harry has to continue his life now that the war is over...but a lot has changed. R/H Does not stay true to the epilogue
1. Flats and Funerals

**This is a story that follows Harry after the war. I kept mostly with the books, not the movies. R&R :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself! Reminder: This is an eventual Slash fic  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 1 **

**Flats and Funerals  
**

Harry Potter laid on his bed, staring up at the ceiling silently. It was half past eight on Saturday night and it had been a long day. Harry could feel the fabric of his dress robes digging into his skin, but did nothing to relieve it. He felt lifeless. He felt alone.

For the past seven years of his life, he'd been working towards something. He was the Boy-Who-Lived and it had been his job his whole life to kill a man he'd been connected to since he was only a year old. Now, that man was dead and their connection to each other was gone and Harry didn't quite know what to do next.

* * *

After the final battle, he'd slept in the Gryffindor Tower for a long time. He slept as though he hadn't in years. He slept without the worry that someone would get into his head and manipulate him. He slept without the anxiety resting in his chest about what was to come. He slept without his brain keeping him half-awake, reminding him all that there still was to be done. He slept that way, all through the night, and through much of the following day.

He woke in time for supper and had a long, quiet, relaxing bath before he headed down to the Great Hall, wondering if he should just go straight to the kitchens. Surely no one would be around anymore, probably having all gone back to their homes. It wasn't likely that the Great Hall would be put back together, yet, let alone in a way that allowed for food to be served, right? He felt somewhat strange about re-entering the place that Voldemort had died. He felt strange about walking in and _not_ seeing the dead bodies from the morning before. It certainly didn't feel right for it to all seem as though it hadn't happened, he thought to himself as he walked down the staircases and down the hallways to the Great Hall. Everything seemed back in order. It was as though the last year hadn't happened. Harry let himself think for just a moment that it _hadn't_ and he'd dreamed it all. But then he realized that his scar didn't hurt anymore and the castle was empty. When he got to the doors, he paused and took a deep breath before opening it. His heart leapt slightly when he saw the Hall.

Everyone from the previous morning was there. Students with their families, the Weasleys, Hagrid, the professors- all there sitting mixed at the different tables sharing a warm meal. Harry noticed that there weren't any house flags above the tables, but instead a flag with the Hogwarts Crest on it above each table. Everyone turned in his direction when they heard the doors open. And then the hall erupted into applause. People started to stand and cheer and they all had looks of utter respect and gratefulness for him. He nodded his head and waved his hand, put his head down and made his way to the Weasleys. He sat down between Ron and Ginny and she grabbed his hand lightly. He squeezed it, but then took his hand back and started to fill his plate, silently. He felt Ron staring at him, so he turned to meet his friend's eyes. Ron offered a smile, but Harry could feel the pain radiating from the redhead's expression. Harry reached over under the table and squeezed Ron's knee. Ron relaxed a little and tucked back into his food. Harry glanced around and Mrs. Weasley caught his eye. She was crying silently. Harry felt a lump rise in his throat and had to look away and have a sip of water to stop himself from crying.

Ginny explained to him while they ate that Hermione had gone to Australia to find her parents. She explained that his bushy-haired friend would be back in a few days' time for the funerals. Harry felt thankful that Hermione had used a memory-modifying spell that could be lifted, allowing them to return to their rightful identities instead of Wendell and Monica Wilkins.

Ginny also explained that McGonagall had offered to transform the classrooms and dormitories into proper sleeping arrangements for the families. Most all of the families had agreed, due to the fact that they all wanted to be around other people and for at least a couple of days wouldn't have to worry about food or work. Harry understood that. He'd have to stay here for a while until he could find a place of his own. Hermione may have gone back to her family, but Harry certainly wasn't going back to his, at least not to stay. After supper, everyone in the hall stayed around and talked to one another. Most of them were returning to their homes that evening or the next morning. The Weasley's were leaving that evening. They said their goodbyes and let everyone know that Fred's funeral would be the following Saturday evening and that Lupin and Tonks's funeral would be on Sunday afternoon.

When they'd finished with their farewells, they had begun to leave, Harry following after to say goodbye away from everyone else. He also took it as a way to get away from everyone, not wanting everyone to be celebrating him when so many had lost their lives and a much greater number of people other than just himself, deserved to be celebrated as well. As they stood outside, Mrs. Weasley enveloped Harry into a tight hug. She asked him to come stay at the Burrow.

"Thank you, Mrs. Weasley, but I couldn't. I know that you all need time to mourn and be a family, and I don't want to intrude in that time," Harry explained, quietly.

Ron shook his head and grabbed Harry into a strong hug, "You are _part_ of the family, mate."

Ron pulled away from the hug and looked at Harry with a nearly desperate expression. Ginny grabbed Harry and held him tightly, kissing him on the cheek. She pulled away, her hands in his, and gave him the blazing look he'd seen so many times. "You need to mourn, too, Harry. It would make us feel better if you did it with us,"

Feeling torn, he figured he couldn't argue with any of it. By the look on Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's faces, they really wanted, maybe even needed, him home with them. Perhaps they were trying to fill the void of Fred. Perhaps they considered him like son. Perhaps they just felt better when they were helping others. Whatever the reason, they genuinely wanted Harry to come back to the Burrow. So he smiled gently and followed them home.

* * *

Not wanting to be in the way for too long, Harry started looking for his own place the very next day. He had written a letter to Headmistress McGonagall asking for her help, as he had no idea where to even start. It was only Tuesday, and with everything that she needed to accomplish before September, he knew she'd already be busy, but he hoped selfishly that she'd be able to get back to him within the week. Her reply had made him smile slightly.

'I could help you look for a flat…or you could just move back to Hogwarts. There's an open teaching spot for Defense Against the Dark Arts… -Headmistress Minerva McGonagall'

Harry took out his quill and wrote, 'I'd be flattered, Professor. Though, for now at least, I think I need to live on my own for a while. Cheers, Harry'

He stood at the window in Ron's room as he watched the owl disappear. He'd been staying in Ron's room instead of Fred and George's because George had moved back in. He couldn't be alone in their flat, he'd said. No one had needed an explanation, glad that with him there, they could keep a proper eye on him. The door to Ron's room opened and Harry glanced back, smiling a hello at Ginny. She walked in quietly and sat on Ron's bed, watching Harry gently. Harry noted the soft look on her face, the quiet plea in her eyes. He knew she would already be aware of what was to come. It was what he had loved about her.

"What changed, Harry?" she asked softly, yet confidently.

He sighed and walked to his rollaway bed, set up not far from Ron's. He sat on it and faced Ginny. He nervously ran a hand over the back of his neck and grimaced as he finally looked into her questioning eyes. "Everything,"

"Why?" she asked, her tone free of anger, which Harry appreciated as he'd played this scene out in his head a hundred times over and it always ended with him on the wrong side of a nasty hex.

"I don't know, Ginny. I just need a little bit of time. Alone. To figure everything out. I'm so-"

"Don't apologize," she interrupted him lightly and put her hand on his, squeezing. He squeezed back and let her leave her hand there for a while. "It's not going to go back to how it was, is it, Harry," it was more of a statement than a question and Harry found himself staring at the ground.

He wondered briefly if she was talking about them as a couple or life as a whole. He shook his head lightly and then shrugged, meeting her eyes again. "I just don't know, Gin,"

Harry had thought that Ron would come after him next, angry and waiting to hear why he had dumped his friend's sister. That never happened, though. Instead, he'd mumbled something about knowing what he's going through and dropped the topic completely. Wednesday morning, McGonagall had dropped Harry a line to let him know that she'd be along at half past one to take him to a few different flats. Surprised that it was all happening so fast, Harry hadn't told anyone. He didn't want to upset Mr. and Mrs. Weasley or make anyone think he didn't feel comfortable in their home. Truth was, he just didn't feel comfortable _period_. In this home or any other. In this life. In his skin. In this new reality.

"Thought I'd try harder to persuade you to return," McGonagall had explained when Harry had asked why she was showing him the flats herself, instead of just referring him to a Witch or Wizard that did it for a job. "You'd have all summer to be alone, you know,"

Harry grabbed her arm and nodded and she Apparated them to the first flat. "I'm sorry, Professor, I just think I need a break for a little while," he'd told her as they walked through the small kitchen to the even smaller front room. He wrinkled his nose, not liking the way the flat smelled. Seeing this, she just grabbed his arm and went on to the next one.

The second flat was nicer. Still somewhat small, but situated in a more spacious manner. There was a balcony that looked over a small Muggle town in London. He liked the smell of this one better. There were two bedrooms, a kitchen, and the sitting room. Harry already felt a little more comfortable with it. He nodded at nothing in particular and put his hands in his pockets. McGonagall smiled slightly and then grabbed hold of him, taking him to one last location. This flat was a bit larger, situated in a Magical town near Hogsmeade. The bottom of the building was a broom shop and across the street was an Apothecary. The flat had two large rooms and a spectacular kitchen. There was a sitting room as well as a front room. There were fireplaces in each room. There were _three_ bathrooms- a large one in each bedroom and a smaller (though still large) one in the hallway near the kitchen and sitting room. Harry shook his head and screwed up his face in an unimpressed manner.

"The second flat, then?" McGonagall asked.

Harry nodded. The paperwork had been done before supper that evening. He still hadn't had the courage to tell anyone.

Thursday night after supper, Harry made the announcement. Everyone seemed pleased enough that he was going to be taking a step in the direction of growing up…of continuing his life. Ron had seemed hurt and had blurted out, "Didn't think to ask if I'd want to move with you, though, did you?" before storming up to his room.

"Sorry, mate. It all happened really fast. I only contacted McGonagall on Tuesday. I thought that it was going to take a few weeks at the least. But with everything going on…I mean with Fred's funeral and everything, I just didn't think you'd want to be worrying about something as silly as moving out," Harry explained to his friend as they sat in Ron's room. Ron was lying on his bed, his back facing Harry, while Harry sat on his rollout bed, legs crossed, picking at the calluses on his hands nervously.

"It's not just about moving_ out_, Harry. It's about moving_ on_. I'm not going to do that if I stay in this house. Too many memories…too much sadness. He wouldn't have wanted sadness, Harry. That's the last thing he'd have wanted,"

Harry couldn't argue with that. He lay down in his bed and went to sleep. The next morning, over breakfast, Harry asked Ron to move in with him. "I mean it's two bedroom. It's in Muggle London, though. Figured less people would recognize me, I guess,"

Ron had caught Harry's eye and stared at him for a long moment. Harry knew that his friend was trying to determine if Harry did, indeed _want_ Ron to move in. He found what he was looking for, so he nodded his head slightly. "That'd be all right," he mumbled as he stuffed a few pieces of bacon into his mouth.

Later that afternoon, when Hermione had arrived, she seemed disappointed though not surprised with the boys as they moved into their new flat.

"What would you rather us do, stay at the Burrow forever?" Ron asked, incredulously, as they walked around the shop, looking for furniture.

Ron stopped at a bed and flopped on it. Hermione turned bright red of embarrassment and covered her face with her hands, glancing around to see if anyone was staring.

"Honestly, Ronald! The day before your brother's funeral and you're shopping for a new bed? And, no, for the record I just thought maybe you'd like to go back to Hogwarts to finish your seventh year, perhaps?"

Ron got off the bed and screwed up his face at Hermione. "You're barking mad! We could get any job we want, we don't have to finish _school_,"

Not choosing to be around the fighting, Harry wandered to shop and picked out a sofa, two bed-side tables, a wardrobe for his room and a wardrobe that matched the bed Ron had been flopping on. He picked out bedding for each of them, as well as pillows, and then he hailed the witch that worked at the shop and she rung it all up and said that she'd have someone bring it to the flat and set it all up by the end of Saturday. Harry thanked her and returned to his friends.

"Don't you _dare_ question how I feel about my brother. I _know_ he died and I am _not_ in denial," Ron growled at Hermione.

She shook her head and Disaparated. Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders in support and wasn't surprised that his friend was shaking. Of anger. Of shock. Harry pulled him into a hug. They hadn't ever really been 'hugger's per se, but lately Harry didn't really know what else to do. Ron hugged him back and relaxed a little, so Harry patted his back and let his friend know that it was all paid for and taken care of and Ron smiled his thanks before they went back to the Burrow.

* * *

Saturday came fast. The funeral had been long. It had been emotionally draining. Harry had only allowed himself to cry a little, fearing that if he really let himself break down, he wouldn't be able to pull himself together. A few people spoke and told funny stories about Fred. Harry had experienced many people die in his seventeen years of life, but somehow it hurt more when the people you loved were hurting, too. He couldn't take the pain away from Mr. and Weasley, Ginny, Bill, Percy, Charlie, or Ron. He couldn't even imagine trying to get through what George was going through. That would be like losing Ron or Hermione. Harry didn't think he would be strong enough to get through losing your brother; your best friend; your twin and literal other half. Harry knew he wouldn't be strong enough.

He stayed for as long as he could, but when it got too much for him, he Aparated away, not consciously knowing where he was going, but feeling relieved when he saw the new sofa he'd picked out, sitting perfectly in his new sitting room. He walked up to his room and threw himself onto the bed. He stared at the ceiling feeling lost. Alone.

_What now?_ were the two words that kept repeating themselves over and over in his head. He couldn't settle them, because at this point, he just didn't know anymore.


	2. Purpose

**A/N: Again, this is going to eventually be slash Harry/Ron, just a heads up!  
Disclaimer: All J.K. Rowlings! I'm just borrowing her masterpiece for a little while to write my own plot for after the war!**

**Life After War  
Chapter 2:  
Purpose  
**

"I still can't believe neither of you are attending your seventh year. You're both absolutely mad, if you ask me," Hermione told Ron and Harry as they sat in the front room of the boys' flat.

"Nobody asked you," Ron grumbled under his breath.

Hermione shot Ron a look that rivaled Ginny's at her most irritated moment.

Harry leaned back in his chair as his friends began to bicker back and forth about the unimportance of Hogwarts and how to properly talk to your girlfriend. He stayed leaned back, the back of his head resting on the chair, and stared at the ceiling waving his wand as he practiced a few charms that shrunk and grew some of their house decorations, sealed up some of the ceiling cracks, and turned the walls different colors. He couldn't help but think of the irony of the situation. Here they were, nearly a month after Voldemort had been killed, Ron and Hermione the same bickering friends as they had always been, and yet nothing else was the same. They were _dating_ now, Ron and Hermione. They were no longer bickering friends, but now a bickering couple. It was June and Harry would not, now or ever, be returning to live with the Dursleys. Instead of staying at the Burrow, Harry would be living with Ron in their own place. Come fall, they would be separated for Hermione for the first time in seven years. Come fall, Harry wouldn't be returning to Hogwarts. The biggest difference of all, however, was that as of a month previous, Harry no longer had a purpose. He wasn't fighting or hunting, searching or battling for anyone or anything. He had no job and wasn't returning to school. As of a month previous to this month, Harry Potter had nothing to do.

Kingsley Shacklebolt, the new Minister of Magic, had contacted Harry, Ron, and Hermione to inform them that they could have any job they pleased. He asked that they all, in their own time, consider positions in the Auror department (something which greatly pleased and excited Ron). They'd all left with the agreement that they'd think about it. Hermione had explained that she wanted to finish her last year at Hogwarts, and Ron and Harry explained that, at least for a short while, they just wanted a break. Shaklebolt had understood and told them to take as much time as they needed.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been both proud and worried in the same moment. They were proud that Ron was given such an opportunity and yet equally worried to lose yet another son, which would have been much more likely if he were to take the job as an Auror. Harry had felt somewhat embarrassed when Ron's parents had admitted that they missed the boys enough since they weren't staying at the Burrow for the summer. Harry hadn't realized he'd meant so much to the family, but it seemed as though this was becoming more and more apparent, if not because of the ending of the war, then certainly due to the loss of their son.

"Harry!" Hermione pulled at the raven-haired boy's arm. "You might want to talk to your friend, here, about the ways in which you do and do _not_ treat your girlfriend. Ginny would positively kill you if _you_ treated _her_ this way,"

Harry sighed and rolled his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he straightened back out and sat the chair normally again. "Er…yeah…'cept I'm not exactly _with_ Ginny anymore, am I?"

Ron grimaced, showing that he didn't want to be a part of this conversation. "Shove off, Hermione," the redhead told her as he pulled her off of Harry and steered her to the fireplace. "Nothing gets solved by pulling our best mate into the fight. You'll be late for dinner with your parents if you don't go. I'll see you later," he said as he positioned her in the fireplace and put powder in her hand. He gave her a swift kiss on the lips and pulled out of the fireplace before she left, a look of utter annoyance on her face.

Ron walked back to the sofa across from Harry's chair and sat down, his face red from embarrassment, though about what Harry wasn't entirely sure.

"Alright, then, mate?" Harry asked, looking at his friend.

"Yeah, just, you know, Hermione. Don't know what to do 'bout her, exactly," Ron admitted, not catching Harry's eyes.

Harry nodded slowly. "Do you want to be with her?"

Ron didn't move for a moment, but got rather stiff. Then he looked up and caught his friend's gaze. Hesitantly, he shrugged. "Dunno, do I? S'pose I do, well enough."

Harry nodded his understanding.

"Life was easier without relationships. When we were all just friends. Back then we could bicker without anyone really getting upset about it,"

Harry shook his head and looked back up at the ceiling, sinking in his chair again until his head rested against the chair. "It won't be that way with you two as a couple, mate. Hermione sees everything different now. It's changed."

Changed.

That word again. It was surrounding Harry's life. _Change_. No more meaning for life. No more future laid out or world on his shoulders. Nothing more to keep he and his friends by each others' sides. No more romantic love between he and Ginny or family love from Remus or Sirius. No more 'Boy-Who-Lived' but now 'Savior'. Not only had these things changed but he, Harry, had changed, too. He had _died_. Actually _died_. And someone, albeit the darkest Wizard of all time, but still some_one_ had died at Harry's hand. He may not have said the curse to kill him, but it happened, all the same.

He couldn't speak parseltongue anymore. He'd been really lonely a week previous and had locked himself up in his new room and conjured a snake. Nothing happened except that it had tried to charge at him, so he quickly burnt it and had sat in his room for nearly two hours trying to reassure himself that it was normal that he'd changed in these ways. He'd only been a parselmouth because of the piece of Voldemort that had lived within him. With that piece gone, there were things that had gone with it. Like the pain in his scar, the absence of which did not prevent him from still touching it often, almost as if to check to see if it was still there.

Some nights, when he and Ron would go to the Burrow for dinner, Harry would sit in the middle of all of the chaos from the large family, and wonder at the fact that among so many, he still felt alone. It made no logical sense, really. He hadn't fought in the war alone, Hermione and Ron had been with him nearly every step of the way until the very end. Except that at that point, when he was sacrificing himself and going through the very strangest and scariest moment of his life, completely alone no less, Ron and Hermione were expressing their love for one another and fighting side by side. Harry could feel the bitterness, could taste it like milk- and sugar-less coffee on his tongue, but he couldn't get rid of it, even when he wanted to. He knew it wasn't their fault that they hadn't been 'The Chosen One'. It wasn't their fault, necessarily, that they'd fallen in love or that in the scariest day they'd ever lived through, they'd finally decided to tell each other. It definitely wasn't their fault that he'd been alone when he'd died. He hadn't wanted them their, he hadn't wanted them to see it. He still resented them for it.

When Hermione came over to their flat and helped them decorate or helped Harry show Ron how to use a television, or just came to eat or visit, and she would naturally remain in close range with Ron at all times, their arms touching, their hands intertwined, their not-so-discrete glances at one another, Harry felt like he could scream at them. He knew that they were happy and whatever else, but did they really need to shove it in his face at all bloody times?

Harry sometimes considered asking Ginny to go out with him again. He never followed through, always realizing that he didn't feel that way for her anymore and it wouldn't be fair to her. Harry sometimes, though he would never admit it, wished that there was still more to do. He wished that there could be more searching and fighting so that he'd have a purpose again. So, when the owl delivered a message from Minister Shacklebolt the following week, Harry responded almost immediately.

_Harry, I know that I said I would give you time, and I will hold up to my promise. I just wanted to let you know that we are starting to find those Death Eaters that had run and hidden. Thought you might be interested in trying to help us find and imprison every last one of them. Just a thought…. K. S. _

_ Minister, I'll have to ask Ron, but I'm up for it. Let me know when to come in and get started. Harry_

Harry sent his response back to Shacklebolt and let himself wonder if Ron would actually want to join. He let the thought go out of his mind as he considered how it would feel to finally have a purpose again. His heart leapt slightly and he allowed himself to feel happy and excited again, for the first time in quite a while.

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I think I'll be getting out another one fairly soon. Leave a little review to let me know what you think :)**


	3. Internal Troubles

**A/N: Sorry it's taken quite a while. I've been going through a weird chapter in my life, but it's over now. I'll be getting the chapters of my stories out much faster, now, though. Happy Reading!  
**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself!  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 3  
Internal Troubles**

"Bloody fantastic. Might as well be at Hogwarts with this workload," Ron grumbled as he and Harry stumbled out of their fireplace and into their front room.

Harry shrugged. He didn't mind the workload. He was actually interested in the books and the topics they were studying. And besides, it gave him something to do when they _weren't_ at work. Ron was always with Hermione, whether at her parents, on a date elsewhere, or in their apartment. Harry felt odd when he was with them too often. It always gave him that same feeling of bitterness that he wanted to avoid at all cost so as not to ruin his friendship with them.

Harry and Ron had accepted Minister of Magic Kingsley Shaklebolt's offer to start the Auror job early in order to help catch the hidden Death Eaters. They'd been in training for nearly a week. They were lucky as they only were required to complete three weeks of Auror training due to the circumstances. Regular Auror training took place over the course of two months, followed by two weeks of field training and then two weeks of shadowing. There was no time for any of that since they needed to get the Death Eaters caught. The rest of the Auror Department was working on attaining more information about the whereabouts of the remaining Death Eaters while Harry and Ron went through the sped-up process of training.

"Just one more week of learning the books, Ron," Harry said, trying to sound encouraging, but knowing that he just sounded annoyed.

Ron rolled his eyes dramatically.

"What should we have to eat?" Harry asked as he opened their fridge and stared blankly inside of it.

Ron slumped into a chair at their kitchen table and sighed. "Hermione is coming over, we'll have her knock something up,"

Harry laughed loudly and shook his head. "Yeah, Ron, I'd really like to see you tell _her_ that. S'pose you learned nothing from that 'Charming Witches' book that Fred and George gave you,"

Ron got quiet and his face turned rather angry. He picked at the blisters on his hands from training, his face screwed up. Harry stopped laughing and closed the refrigerator door, walking to the table to sit down next to his friend.

"Sorry," Harry mumbled awkwardly. He lifted his hand and placed it on Ron's shoulder.

Ron stopped messing with his hands and lowered his eyes slightly. His breath was uneven and Harry guessed that that was due to his friend being so unprepared to hear his brother's name thrown around in such a lighthearted manner.

Still not making eye contact with Harry, Ron stood from his seat and made as if to leave the room. Harry stood swiftly and made sure that his hand stayed on the red-head's shoulder. For a moment, they both stood frozen, awkward in one way, though comfortable in another. Ron stood with his head down, his body facing the doorway to the hall. Harry stood directly next to him, his body facing the side of Ron's body, his hand still on Ron's shoulder, and his face looking somberly at the side of Ron's. After a moment, in one swift movement, Harry had turned Ron to face him directly and had gathered him into a hug. Ron's lanky arms dangled at his sides for a small moment before he hugged Harry back, his chin resting on the top of his friend's raven-haired head. As awkward as it had felt the first time they had done this, it felt comfortable now. They were both complete shit with words, but this was their way of letting the other know that they really did care.

* * *

"It's a bad day today, isn't it?" Hermione asked Harry lightly.

The two of them were preparing dinner while Ron sat watching the television in the other room. Harry didn't look at her when he answered, choosing instead to act occupied as he sliced a tomato.

"It's my fault," he told her.

"What happened?" she asked as she drained the water from the now-done spaghetti.

"It's nothing," Harry tried to assure her. "I promise, just let him be a little _off_ tonight."

Harry finally looked at her. It hurt him a little bit to see her pain. She knew that her boyfriend was basically breaking from the loss of his brother, but she was having a hard time being there for him when he never opened up. Harry wanted to offer advice, but he knew that Ron felt awkward talking about it, especially to Hermione.

"He's going to be alright, Hermione. Just, for tonight, let it be," Harry practically pleaded with her. She tried to offer a smile and as tight-lipped as it was, Harry took it and finished dinner.

There wasn't much talking throughout dinner. Harry and Hermione both noticed that Ron hadn't even gotten a second serving. Hermione continued to try to keep things normal, but every once in a while she would send a look at Harry that was begging for his permission to ask Ron what was going on. Harry refused to give in, insisting that she not bring it up, at least not tonight. She didn't end up staying for long, nearly bursting to bring Ron into a conversation that Harry knew his friend just was not up for yet.

After the dishes were clean and Hermione had left, Harry and Ron shared a game of Wizard's Chess over a few Butterbeers and went to bed.

As Harry lay in his bed atop the covers, he stared absently at the ceiling and tried to picture where the remaining Death Eaters were hiding. He felt the need to go into Ron's room and sit on a roll-out bed so he could brainstorm with his friend about what it was going to be like to be an Auror and to catch all of Voldemort's supporters. He was so glad to have something to do again, yet he still felt more alone than he'd ever felt before.

Sometimes, when Harry had lived in the cupboard under the stairs at Number 4 Privet Drive, he'd feel so alone that he'd talk to himself. Never having had any friends, though, Harry hadn't felt so bad. He'd wish for someone to talk to at his loneliest moments, but he never actually knew what he was missing. After he'd gotten Hedwig, he'd talk to her a lot. Now, knowing what he was missing _and _not having Hedwig around, Harry felt lonelier than he'd ever felt before. Now that the Wizarding World didn't exactly need him around, he felt somewhat unnecessary. He thought back on his most stressful moments, when he had only wished that Voldemort would just disappear already. Those moments, now, brought laughter to his lips. He couldn't help but wonder if he actually was disposable.

He heard a snore come through the wall of his bedroom. He quickly realized that those around him were going through things as well. He felt he was being a bit over dramatic about the whole thing, so he turned onto his side, still on top of the blankets, and fell into a rather restless sleep.


	4. Birthdays and Missions

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself!  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 4  
Birthdays and Missions  
**

"Happy Birthday, Harry," Hermione told her friend as she gathered him into a hug. Harry offered a small, slightly embarrassed smile and murmured a quiet, "thanks", before he was passed to each member of the Weasley family. He reached Ginny last. She smiled, unfazed, and Harry felt over-aware of his discomfort around her. He realized that she was truly a strong person and wouldn't let their breakup have an affect on her friendship with him. He forced himself to let down his guards and he hugged her gently.

Harry's birthday party at the Burrow was a nice break from training for Ron and Harry. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had set up a small tent outside with tables and chairs. Hermione and Ginny had helped Mrs. Weasley prepare different foods and desserts. Hermione had seemed to be getting into the art of preparing food, and Mrs. Weasley loved to teach her different tricks and techniques. Hermione had explained that they'd gone all out for his birthday this year since they'd forgotten with the wedding and all that had happened the year before. Eating a slice of cake, Harry leaned against a tree and tried to ignore Hermione sitting in Ron's lap on one of the chairs outside.

"How's training going?" George asked Harry, standing across from him.

Harry shifted, still leaning against the tree. He gave a noncommittal nod. "'S alright. Just, you know, ready to start actually looking for the bloody Death Eaters,"

George nodded in understanding, glancing off to the side at nothing in particular. Harry looked at him for a moment. The laughter and happiness no longer lingered in the redhead's eyes. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was long enough to tie back. He looked haunted. The scar that existed in place of his ear stood out pink and raised against the pale, otherwise smooth skin.

When he wasn't in training, Ron had been working at the shop to help Lee Jordan. Ron said that George had only come into the store once since Fred had died, so Lee had been mostly running the store. He never said it, but Harry knew that Ron enjoyed helping to run it. It was as though it was Ron's way of still being around Fred. Harry helped out every once in a while, too, but it was mostly just to be around Ron when he was his most comfortable. He couldn't explain it, but there was something comforting to Harry about seeing his friend in his own element, content and at ease.

Hermione giggled loudly and Harry looked over at her on top of Ron's lap. Ron was eating his trifle and Bill and Fleur were sitting across from he and Hermione, laughing. Ron seemed disengaged from the seemingly humorous conversation happening between Bill, Fleur and Hermione. As he ate his trifle, he stared out past the tent at nothing in particular and Harry was struck by how similar Ron was to George. Especially right now, in such a state of pain from the loss of their brother.

Harry looked back to George and placed his hand on the older boy's shoulder in an attempt at comfort. George seemed to relax a little, so Harry pulled him into a hug, knowing that it helped when Ron was having a bad moment. George let him. As Harry squeezed George tightly, he watched Ron over George's shoulder. He was overcome with sorrow for his friends.

He made it through the party, but when it was over he said his goodbyes and dragged Ron home with him. Once they'd gotten back to the flat, Ron sat on the sofa for a while in silence. Harry poured them two glasses of firewhiskey and sat next to him on the sofa. Ron downed his in one gulp and Harry followed suit. He leaned against the back of the sofa and put his arms around Ron's shoulders, trying to comfort him as he had for George earlier in the day. To Harry's slight surprise, Ron leaned all the way in, his body visibly relaxing from Harry's comforting grasp.

* * *

Harry hid in the alley behind a dodgy-looking pub in the heart of Ashford, just 90 kilometers from London. The mustache that Ron had glamour-charmed for him made his nose twitch, but he kept reminding himself to focus on the task at hand. It was the end of August and this was their first mission as official Aurors. Harry was terrified he'd mess something up, though he was equally excited to finally be _doing_ something with his life again.

Ron, however, seemed solely horrified. His face had been pale and he'd had the distinct look on his face of the need to be sick since the previous evening. Hermione had come over and prepared dinner, though she'd left with an annoyed huff after an hour straight of trying and failing to get Ron to talk to her. This morning after they'd woken and showered, they sat at the kitchen table in silence, each lost within their own thoughts. Mrs. Weasley brought over breakfast, a look of anxiety and fear spreading across the features of her face. Harry let her hug him for a small while until it seemed that she felt a bit more comfortable and he watched somewhat awkwardly as she gathered Ron into one as well. Harry left them alone for a short while and finished getting ready.

Now they were standing, both thoroughly disguised with facial hair, dirtied skin, long hair, and dirty, ripped robes, hidden in a dark alley waiting to be signaled by the other Aurors to move in on the Death Eater. They'd been studying his file for nearly a fortnight. Harry and Ron already knew him, though. It was Scabior, one of the Snatchers that had brought themselves and Hermione to the Malfoy Manor not six months before. To Harry, it seemed a most appropriate way to begin their careers as Aurors.

"How daft can you be?" Ron grumbled next to him, pulling Harry back to reality. Harry glanced around the corner of the building to see what Ron was talking about. Scabior had just left the pub and had cast the _Imperio_ curse upon an innocent woman walking by. Harry shook his head in incredulity. This on-the-run criminal was in no way trying to be discrete. Harry's eyes grew large and he gave Ron a look as he realized that Scabior was no longer being discrete because he _knew_. He was fully aware that he was being followed and he didn't care anymore. They couldn't wait any longer. If they did, they were risking Scabior doing something awful that could endanger them all. They needed to act fast.

Harry signaled the other Aurors quickly and they gave him a nod of approval. He felt Ron press up against his back, ready to jump out and get the job done. He took a deep breath, reached back and squeezed Ron's hand, and after feeling Ron squeeze back, he jumped out from the alley and pointed his wand directly at Scabior. Careful not to hit the innocent woman, Harry shot a perfectly aimed _Expelliarmus_ charm at Scabior and caught the man's wand as it flew into the air. Ron had shot forward and grabbed the innocent woman, helping her away from Scabior's grip, while another Auror had lunged at Scabior and tackled the startled man to the ground.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" Harry yelled, and he watched as Scabior's body became rigid, his legs snapping together and his arms snapping to his side.

A feeling of happy relief spread itself through Harry's body, and for a moment, he felt happier than he hand in a long while. His eyes ran over the scene in front of him, a group of Aurors hauling Scabior away, Ron and a group of Healers surrounding the innocent woman preparing to take her to St. Mungo's. Ron caught Harry's eye and the raven-haired man smiled at his friend. Ron finally had color in his face again, he looked proud and relieved and that added to Harry's contentment. Harry walked to the lead Auror, who briefed him quickly on the following procedure. They'd be relocating Scabior to Azkaban to await his trial, which Harry and Ron needed to begin the paperwork for starting tomorrow morning. Harry helped the Aurors control Scabior and once he'd been taken to Azkaban and the woman had been taken to St. Mungo's, Harry grabbed Ron and they Disapparated home.

Hermione came over for dinner as she would be leaving for Hogwart's in two days time. Harry sat and smiled in comfortable silence as he watched Ron recount the day to his girlfriend. Animated and full of energy already, the firewhiskey they'd been drinking added to Ron's good mood and added a pink color to his cheeks.

"Honestly, Hermione, it was wicked!" Ron exclaimed, a smile plastered across his face.

Hermione laughed heartily. "That's brilliant, boys." She shared a smile with Harry and then stood to start cleaning up. She gathered the dishes from the table and brought them to the sink. Ron helped, still talking a mile a minute. Harry chuckled and announced that he was going to have a shower. As he let the warm water pound down on his grimy skin, he couldn't help but still feel that warmth of satisfaction in his stomach and chest. He was finally starting to feel like himself again.


	5. A Change In Mood

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself!  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 5  
A Change in Mood  
**

"That's just bloody brilliant, then, isn't it," Ron grumbled under his breath.

Harry looked up from his bite of fried egg and stared questioningly at his friend across the table. "Something the matter?"

Ron looked up from the letter he was reading from Hermione. He grimaced as though in pain and then shook his head and crumbled the letter up, tucked into his own plate, and managed a small, "'s nothing, mate," between bites.

Harry shrugged and finished his breakfast while he read the morning edition of today's Daily Prophet. This was their routine. Every morning since September they would get up, have showers, have a bite of breakfast over the Prophet and occasionally a letter from Hermione (for Ron it was more than occasionally, but Harry didn't quite mind not receiving daily letters from her), and then they'd Apparate to the Ministry for work. Being that it was now November, they'd captured eleven more Death Eaters. The Ministry was working at trying to complete most of the court trials for these criminals before the Holiday. Minister Shaklebolt liked a certain schedule for the Aurors. First they'd capture many, then they would do a solid block of court trials. When those were finished, they'd capture more before doing another block of trials, and so on and so forth. Ideally, Harry and Ron would get a break around Christmas and Boxing Day, just like the rest of the Ministry employees would be. For Aurors, however, this just was not possible. There were still many Death Eaters to capture and there was no time for luxurious Holidays. Harry didn't mind. Ron didn't seem to mind much, either. They were on a roll. They'd found a job that they both were fantastic at.

* * *

"Alright, you lot. We've been doing well enough, but we can do better. We are going to start capturing in shifts. For two weeks, half of you will do research during the regular workday. For those two weeks, the other half of you will be doing the capturing by night. We think that we'll be able to capture more of them in a shorter amount of time this way. After two weeks, you'll switch. Those that were working days will start to work nights and vice versa. Every day at five pm, the research team will turn in what they have. Every evening at nine pm, the capturing team will meet here, read through the research, devise a plan of action, and capture. I realize that right now we are capturing at about one criminal per week. Our new aim is for one Death Eater per one-to-two days. There will be times when the capturing team takes more than one night to capture someone, just as there will be times when the research team will take more than one day to gather enough information to attack. This is inevitable. But we will work our bloody asses off to get it all done. In two weeks time, the first round of trials will begin, so for now we will only be able to do one rotation of this routine. The moment these trials are finished, we will swap teams and start the routine again. Any questions?"

Harry and Ron listened along with the other Aurors to the new lead Auror, James Cahill. He was a gruff man with a sharp jaw and a somewhat heavyset body that seemed more so due to his shorter height. His voice was low and confident, demanding of attention and obedience. He was as brave a man as Moody had been, which gave Harry great comfort. He was organized and in-control. He was a good teacher and Harry and Ron spoke often of how they still learned things from him even after training. Cahill was a good man and an even better leader and, in Harry's mind, it was him as Lead Auror and Shaklebolt as Minister of Magic that was helping them be so successful in capturing these Death Eaters.

For this first two weeks, Harry was put on the capturing team while Ron was put on the research team. Harry wondered if that had meant that from now on he'd never be on Ron's team or if maybe at some point they'd get the chance to switch it up. He supposed it didn't matter, in the end, he just felt more secure when working with Ron. They were a great team, the two of them. Harry had a strong feeling he'd have to deal with a rather pissed off Ron later that night. Ron hated paperwork, and he'd be equally irritated that not only did he have to do paperwork for two weeks straight, but also that Harry got to do absolutely no paperwork for two weeks.

Harry and his new team were sent home to rest for the day, even though they had been told that they wouldn't start capturing until the following night. Harry was somewhat happy for the day off, although he didn't quite know what to do with it.

He went to the store to pick up groceries and to the apothecary to get a few medicinal potions, such as a hangover drought, that they'd run out of. When he got back up to their flat, he put away the groceries and made himself a sandwich for lunch. As he sat down to eat, his eyes were drawn to a crumbled-up piece of paper under the table. He glanced around to see if anyone was there and then inwardly laughed at himself as he realized that he was, of course, alone as it was his own flat and Ron was still at work. He leaned down cautiously and picked up the crumbled letter, recognizing that it was the letter Hermione had sent Ron that morning that had gotten him so disgruntled. He flattened it out, trying to be as quiet as possible, knowing he was being stupid and he wouldn't get caught, but still nervous.

_Honestly, Ronald, I really don't understand your choices sometimes! You have just begun this job as an Auror and it does not look good if you miss days of work to go to George's shop! I know that you want to help out, I understand that he and Lee need some help, but if you are going to make the decision to _not_ finish your seventh year of schooling, the least you can do is try your hardest to excel at being an Auror. I really don't know why I bother, though- I know you aren't going to listen to me. On a different note, the photo shoot for our Chocolate Frog Wizard Cards is the Saturday before Christmas. Please wear your nicest Auror robes, tell Harry to do the same. I hope you two are keeping safe and are learning to cook, as you can't rely on your mother forever. Hope to hear from you soon. Tell Harry hello for me,  
__Hermione_

Harry shook his head. He was actually shocked that she would reprimand Ron for helping out at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. It was the only place where Ron felt like he _didn't_ lose one of his brothers. Sometimes, on an occasional Saturday or Sunday, all of the Weasley brothers and Harry would help Lee Jordan out at the shop. On those days, they were able to talk George into coming. He may not have done much, just mostly sat in the stock room or behind the counter, but all the boys knew it was a process.

Weekend before last, Harry had seen George smile. Not a large one, and it didn't last more than a second or two, but it almost reached his eyes and it warmed Harry's heart. He'd quickly found Ron's face and was ecstatic to find that Ron had seen it, too. Ron had been in a good mood for nearly three days. That is until he got a letter from Hermione telling him that she thought if he wanted to really get into his job as an Auror, he should take it seriously enough to read a list of books she'd created for him about the position. When he'd rather politely (especially for Ron) told her that he had read quite a bit during training and that he _could_ actually be serious about something without reading every book that even mentioned the word 'Auror' if only once, she'd told him that she questioned why they were together considering they were so different. That had ruined his nearly 3-day run of happiness from George's smile and replaced it with an angry, easily set-off mood for 4 days. Harry thought he'd been coming out of it, but this morning had proved differently, and now that Harry was reading Hermione's words, he understood why.

It's not that it was entirely unlike her to fight with him, but she was being actually mean and completely _not_ understanding about Ron's situation. Harry was baffled by the knowledge that _he _was the one that was comforting and understanding and Hermione was clueless and rude about it all. It must be hard for her, though, to know that she is supposed to be more than just a friend now and Ron opened up to her less than ever. It must frustrate her to not know _how_ to help her boyfriend. Usually she might seem sad about it and prod Ron to open up, or ask Harry for help. Considering the fact that she was under stress and didn't entirely agree with their decision to not finish school, though, she was acting less sensitive than ever. Harry made a mental note to write her a letter tonight. It must be odd for her to be at school without them. She must also be under more stress than usual due to the fact that she had her N.E.W.T. exams to study for. He needed to write to her and let her know that he believed in her and that taking out her stress and frustration on Ron maybe wasn't the way to go.

He finished his sandwich and decided to go into Diagon Alley to look for a new owl. It wasn't something he'd been looking forward to, so he'd put it off for quite a while. No owl could replace Hedwig. She'd been more than his owl. She'd been his friend, his connection to the Wizarding World during long and painful summers, his first pet, and he'd loved her. But he knew that he couldn't use Pigwidgeon forever, and it was time for him to find an owl of his.

* * *

When Harry returned to the flat, Ron was seated on their sofa watching an episode of the sitcom _Friends_. He laughed at something one of the characters said and then glanced up at Harry as he took a gulp from his butterbeer. Harry was smiling broadly at his friend, lifting the cage into the air so that Ron could get a look at Harry's new owl. He'd bought another Snowy Owl to remind him of Hedwig, but he couldn't decide what to call her.

"Bloody hell, Harry, she looks just like Hedwig!" Ron told his friend, excited.

Harry chuckled and walked into their kitchen. "Yeah, I know. I just can't imagine having an owl that didn't look like her, you know? I looked at other owls, but it didn't feel right. I was drawn to her,"

Ron laughed and followed Harry into the kitchen. He took the new owl out of her cage and she flew to his shoulder and played with his red hair. "You're like a God among animals, mate. 'Drawn to her', yeah? All animals are drawn to you. Thank Merlin for that or who knows what would have happened to you with Buckbeak 3rd year,"

Harry laughed at Ron's words and at the sight of his owl nipping at Ron's ear. "What should we knock up for supper?"

Ron told the owl to tickle its owner, humor in his tone. The owl promptly left Ron's shoulder and flew to Harry's, playing with his hair and ears. Harry chuckled and fed her one of the treats he'd bought for her. She hummed gratefully. Harry's cheeks were flushed in happiness and excitement and it brought a large smile to Ron's face. It would be days before a bad mood threatened either of them.


	6. Dinner Conversations

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself! Reminder: This is an eventual Slash fic (the slash is just around the corner! :D )**

** P.S. Hit Wizards are mentioned in the 3rd book, and I think that idea is just brilliant, so I just slipped them right into this chapter :)  
**

**Please leave some reviews so I know how you are all liking the story so far! More soon to come!  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 6  
Dinner Conversations  
**

In the end, Harry had decided to call his new owl Adelaide, though both he and Ron had taken to calling her Adele for short. He'd come across the name while reading through his _Flying to Fight, Fighting to Fly: An Auror's Guide to Fighting on a Broomstick_ book they'd been assigned at work. Lead Auror Cahill had decided that they hadn't trained in flying enough and wanted to make sure that all of the Aurors, new and old, were as strong (if not stronger) on their brooms as they were on the ground. Harry welcomed this, feeling much more at ease and familiar in the air than he had been in a long while.

"Bloody hell, Harry. Smells brilliant in here!" Ron's tone was full of excitement and appreciation as he walked into their kitchen, set down his briefcase, and started to remove his Auror robes. He set them on a chair by the table and walked to where Harry was standing at the counter, glancing over his shorter friend's shoulder to see what he was making. Harry chuckled as he continued to mash the boiled potatoes.

"Thanks, mate. Wanted to try something different. Haven't made this since the Dursley's. It'll be ready in just a mo'. Grab us a couple of Butterbeers, yeah?" Harry asked, nodding his head in the direction of the fridge.

Ron nodded and skipped excitedly to the fridge, grabbing two Butterbeers and placing them on the table. He then grabbed plates, cutlery, and napkins and put them on the table as well. "Need a hand?" he asked Harry, wandering back to the counter where he was still mashing the potatoes.

"No, I've got it. Sit, I'll bring it over," he directed Ron, who promptly obeyed and sat eagerly at the table.

Harry brought the potatoes to the table and then grabbed the mushy peas and the perfectly brown steak and kidney pie and placed them on the table in front of Ron, who's smile grew impossibly larger.

Harry laughed again and sat down to tuck in. Ron put large servings of each on his plate and shoveled it into his mouth. After a short while of eating in a satisfied silence, Harry asked how Ron's day at work went, wondering out loud how long of a night it would be.

"Well we found…we were trying to be discrete about it and not tell you lot until we'd figured it all out, but we've been working on a particularly high-profile Death Eater for nearly a week, now, and we've found enough information on him…well on his whole family…I think Cahill will be assigning that capture to your team tonight. I've a feeling it's going to be a long one. It'll last more than tonight. Fitting you've made such a large dinner, I s'pose, because I don't think I'll be seeing you for a few days at least," Ron told him rather awkwardly.

"Blimey, Ron, stop dancing around it and just tell me who it is," Harry said impatiently.

"The Malfoys, mate. Lucius in particular, but obviously Draco and the wife as well. 'Bout bloody time, too, isn't it? Thought we'd never find them," Ron said rather matter-of-factly and he looked up from his steak and kidney pie to see Harry's reaction.

Harry nodded slowly, staring blankly at his food. "Narcissa saved my life, as far as I'm concerned," he said simply. He looked up at Ron, a blank expression still plastered on his face, making it difficult for his red-headed friend to read his real reaction.

"Oh, come off it, Harry. What do you actually think about this? Yeah, she may have saved your life, but both her evil husband and their demented son were Death Eaters. The Malfoy Manor was Vol…Vol…"

"Just say it, Ron,"

"Voldemort's headquarters," Ron finished, his face screwed up and looking as though Voldemort's name could literally leave a nasty taste in his mouth.

Harry shook his head and rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips. Quickly becoming serious again, he gave Ron a hard look, letting him know that he was being completely honest. "I guess I don't really know, do I. Malfoy seemed to come around in the end- just caught up by everything his father was involved in. Honestly, mate, I think I'd be alright with them getting off easy. I mean I'll do my job, well enough, obviously, but if their trial goes somewhat fair and they don't spend their lives in Azkaban, I won't lose any sleep."

Ron tried to keep his face straight, but his opposition to Harry's statement still shone through his half-hearted mask. Harry shrugged and continued eating, feeling slightly embarrassed at being judged for how he felt on this situation. Ron's shoulders relaxed and he reached his arm out to put his hand on Harry's shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Harry. I just don't see it that way. Malfoy and his father are complete prats and they followed…er…Vo-Voldemort. Didn't they? You're too righteous for your own good, mate."

Harry chuckled and shook his head at his friend's statement. Trying to change the subject a little, he asked, "So you reckon it'll take a few days, yeah?"

Ron removed his hand from Harry's shoulder and went back to his food. He nodded and finished his third serving before getting up to grab the pudding and bringing it back to the table, serving himself some of it and digging in. Between his second and third serving of it, he continued the conversation. "Cahill said something about getting a few Hit Wizards to join. Savage reckons it won't come to that, though. Good thing is, all three of the Malfoys are sticking together. I can't say where, but you'll find out tonight at your briefing. That'll be the easiest part."

"Yeah, alright. Very good. You going to the Burrow tonight?" Harry asked.

Ron nodded. "He's thinking about moving back into their flat above the shop. Lee says he'll move in with him, that way he doesn't have to be alone. I think maybe it's time. At least by Christmas, yeah? Well, anyway, I'm just going to pop in for a bit tonight. Haven't seen him in a few days. Oh, right, mum wrote me yesterday asking if we were coming to lunch next week. First week of trials, so you won't be asleep during lunch and I won't be at work. Obviously we'll have to plan it around trials, but are you up for it?"

Harry nodded with a smile. "Of course, mate, I'll be there,"

"Good. And I thought, maybe, one day next week between trials we could take a trip to Diagon Alley or Hogsmeade and get our Christmas shopping done before we get back to capturing, yeah?" Ron asked, standing up and taking his plates to the sink. He turned back to face the table and waved his wand, carefully directing the rest of the plates to the sink.

Harry waved his wand easily and the water started running as the dishes began to clean themselves. "Yeah, mate, that sounds perfect. When does Hermione get back?"

Ron seemed to tense slightly, but tried to play it off as though he needed to scratch his back awkwardly. "Dunno, really. She'll be staying with her parents mostly, but I think she'll come over for a bit on Boxing Day."

Ron yawned rather forcefully, and Harry dropped the subject.

They shared more small conversation easily before Ron left to visit his family and Harry went to read _Flying to Fight, Fighting to Fly_ before he needed to get ready and go to work. It seemed odd to Harry that all he'd wanted for months following the Battle at Hogwarts was to be fighting for something again, yet now it gave him little satisfaction. He'd felt wonderful, right, balanced, and content when he'd started, though now that he was doing it _without_ Ron, he felt odd. He'd been fighting alongside Ron and Hermione since he was eleven years old. Now, without either of them, he felt like something was missing. He couldn't battle to his full potential now that he didn't have Ron with him. He always felt on-edge. He was dreading the two weeks when they'd switch and Ron would be capturing by night while Harry would lay safe in their apartment. What if something happened to Ron and Harry wasn't there to save him? More than that, though: what if something happened to Ron at all? Harry shuddered and felt nervous goosebumps cover his skin. That was too much to think about.


	7. Death Eater Madness

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself! Reminder: This is an eventual Slash fic (the slash is just around the corner! :D )**

**Please leave some reviews so I know how you are all liking the story so far! More soon to come!  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 7  
Death Eater Madness  
**

"There's the son," Robards, the lead of the capturing team and Cahill's right hand man, growled quietly.

Harry watched as a very nervous looking Draco Malfoy stepped out of a door and glanced around. He didn't look like himself. His hair was disarray instead of its usual look of being perfectly slicked back. He was covered in dirt and wearing ripped clothing. Harry wasn't quite sure if the new look was the result of being on the run for so many months or if it was part of his efforts to hide and not stick out. Perhaps it was a bit of both. Harry chanced a small glance at Robards to gauge his expression at seeing Draco. He seemed to be more expectant on who was to follow Draco than he was concerned about the nervous boy. This was their second night of being out here. The first night they had seen no movement at all. All day long, they'd been surveying the goings and comings of the residents of the building. This was the first sign of the Malfoys, and Harry could tell that Robards was excited.

Harry didn't feel completely right about all this. It was Draco's mother, after all, who had helped Harry. She'd basically saved his life. Yet here he was, trying to capture her and her son, who Harry knew had just gotten caught up in trying to be like and prove himself to his father. If anything, they should _only_ be going after Lucious Malfoy, not the whole lot of them! But when Harry had tried to make this point to Cahill and Robards, they'd threatened to remove him from the case, so he'd shut his mouth and gone along with it. At the very least he could still keep a watch on how well they treated Narcissa.

Albert Hering, an Auror on his team, tensed beside Harry and pulled him back to the present. Harry looked up, searching for the reason of Hering's sudden discomfort. Immediately upon seeing the man who'd followed Draco from the building, Harry felt a giant wave of anger and was happy that he had come.

Standing off to the side from the door, Draco was waiting for others to join him. It was pitch black save for the street light about the door, which shined just enough light for Harry to see that one very thin, very anxious, and very nasty looking Rabastan Lestrange had joined Draco. Harry hated this man. The brother-in-law of Bellatrix, he was an evil Death Eater willing to do absolutely anything to make his precious Voldemort happy. Harry remembered him from his 5th year at the Department of Mysteries. Rabastan had been one of the Death Eaters chasing Ron, Hermione, and himself.

His body was yelling to just get up and kill the man, but he tried to calm himself and remained crouched between Hering and Robards.

There were Aurors from his team hidden all around the street, keeping on these men from all angles. They were all itching to see who would come next.

The door creaked open and Narcissa stepped out, looking nothing of her normal self, and she walked swiftly to her son, where she smoothed down his hair and kissed his forehead. Draco pulled a face, but let her fuss with him more and something about it made Harry's heart ache a little bit. His whole life he had been watching mothers fuss over their sons. Harry hadn't been jealous of that in many years. But there was something about this, this mother and son on the run in terrible times and when the mother needs reassurance and comforting, she gets it by having the ability to fuss over her son and he has the knowledge to let her, silently understanding that this is what she needs. Harry would never have that. He'd never have a silent understanding with a worried mother. He'd never be to comfort her or give her reassurance. He'd never have her to help him through the hard times.

"Bloody fucking shit!" Robards said so quietly it came out as more of an exasperated breath.

Harry was once again pulled out of his own thoughts and looked up to see why his boss would be spouting out such foul words. He gasped, involuntarily. Death Eaters Crabbe and Goyle had come out of the door and stepped toward Lestrange. They had been quickly followed by Rodolphus Lestrange and Lucious Malfoy. Robards silently sent a patronus away, and Harry didn't need to be told it was going to Cahill. They were going to need more men.

* * *

Harry had just put a body-binding curse on Rodolphus Lestange. He was knelt over the man, trying to find his wand when he felt a slash against his back and felt blood soak through his robes. He twisted around to see where it had come from. Rabastan was standing nearly twenty feet away from him, wand raised, a crazy look on his face that should have made Harry shiver and instead fueled his anger.

"_Crucio_!" Rabastan aimed directly at Harry, who blocked it as though he was dueling with a child.

"_Stupefy_!" Harry shot at him, walking closer.

Silently, Rabastan slashed his wand in the air a few times, and more cuts showered Harry's arms and face.

"_Petrificus Totalus!" _Harry yelled loudly, summoning all of his strength to make this one work. Immediately, Rabastan became stiff, arms at his sides, feet together, and he fell backwards onto the ground. Harry shook his head and walked over to collect the man's wand. He stood up and looked around him. Narcissa and Draco Malfoy had put up no fight and were sitting on the ground, speaking with a couple of Aurors. Lucious Malfoy had immediately tried to flee by Apparition when he saw what was happening, though Robards had put an Anti-Apparition jinx on the premises earlier in the evening, so he was caught and was tied up, now sitting next to the body-binded Crabbe and Goyle. Harry used his wand to move the Lestranges over to the rest of them. Robards put together a Portkey and assigned each Auror a Death Eater to hold onto until they arrived at Azkaban. The rest of the Aurors no longer needed were able to go home, or else to St. Mungo's to get fixed back up.

Harry's face was full of cuts and bruises and his back was stinging where he had been cut. He volunteered, however, to be in charge of Rabastan, and Robards allowed it. There was a cracking sound and Ron, Savage, and Pricely reported directly to Robards who informed them that they had finished the job. His patronous had failed to mention the Anti-Apparition jinx and they had just put together their Portkey.

Savage and Pricely went around to check on the other Aurors, but Ron went directly to Harry.

"Alright, mate?" Ron asked, putting his hand on Harry's shoulder and surveying his face.

Harry nodded. "'Course I am. I've got to take Rabastan to Azkaban,"

Ron shook his head. "No, Harry, lets get you over to St. Mungo's before any of this gets infected. Someone else can take Rabastan,"

Harry gave Ron a look of annoyance, but the expression on Ron's face showed that he was not going to budge on this. He watched as Ron went back to Robards and told him that Harry needed to go get fixed up. Robards nodded, and used his hand to 'shoo' them away. Ron grabbed Harry's arm hard and they went straight to St. Mungo's.

As Harry sat on a bed, his legs dangling, Ron sitting in a chair beside him, waiting for a Healer to come fix him back up, Harry remembered that feeling he'd had when he'd seen Malfoy with his mother. Harry did not feel he needed to be fixed up, it was a few cuts and bruises. He was doing this so that Ron could get some peace of mind. And it dawned on him that he may never have that relationship with a mother, but, as his best friend stared at him, worry somewhat hidden behind his bright blue eyes, he definitely had someone that cared enough about him and that he cared enough about to have that relationship with _someone_. Not just _anyone_, either. He had that relationship with his Wheezy.


	8. Road to Recovery

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself! Reminder: This is an eventual Slash fic (the slash is just around the corner! :D )**

**Life After War  
Chapter 8  
Road to Recovery  
**

"You look like shit."

"Funny hearing that come from _you_, mate. Fancy looking in a mirror, lately?" George retorted, his tone rather bitter.

Harry gave a sarcastic, "ha ha," before offering his explanation. "Working nights," he said evenly, grabbing a bag of '**Tantalizingly Tasty Toffee**: _(You can almost taste it, but it'll never make its way to your mouth; The perfect gift for only the most annoying person!)_' and opening it roughly, filling the nearly-empty container of them next to the cash register.

George screwed up his face in understanding and gently added a few newly bred, bright pink Pygmy Puffs to a cage near the back of the store. "Ron mentioned that, didn't he? Well, that's just plain rotten. What are you doing here, then, instead of in bed catching a bit of sleep?"

Harry shrugged. He felt, now that they were on the subject, a little more aware of how he might look at the moment. He knew that the dark circles under his eyes were a bit larger and darker than usual. He'd been too tired to have a shower that morning, so he knew his hair was oily and he probably smelled of old, worn socks. He hadn't washed his clothes in a while, so he was quite aware that they were rumpled, wrinkled, and were most definitely contributing to his smell. He didn't doubt that he might have looked homeless.

He looked up to gauge George's appearance. His eyes were sunken into a face that lacked color, luster, and the old humor that used to lie within his eyes. He was thin, painfully thin, and it made Harry realize just how much Fred's death had taken a physical toll on his friend.

"I figured I could spend a bit of time with an old friend. I am, after all, part owner of this company, am I not? Besides, last night was my last night capturing for a while. And it feels good to see you back here," he offered with a wink and a smile.

George chuckled. A real chuckle. Harry felt warmth spread throughout his body and suppressed a large smile with a small grin. Ron would explode with happiness if he could see George like, trudging his way, slowly but surely, back to normal. Harry could actually picture the flush of his best friend's cheeks, the gigantic smile that would take up residence on his freckly face. He and George each went back to restocking the store and remained silent for a few moments.

"Capture anyone good last night?" George asked, bringing Harry back from his thoughts of a happy Ron.

"We caught Rowle, believe it or not. Remember him? Hermione and I had a big mess with him while we were looking for Horcruxes. But earlier this week we got a load of them. Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange, you know Bellatrix's husband and his brother, Crabbe and Goyle Sr., and the Malfoys. Took us a couple of days, but we got them all, the bastards, and they're all in Azkaban waiting for trials. They start day after tomorrow," Harry explained.

He opened a new box of very small, simple brooms and recognized them from the baby picture he'd found of himself in Sirius' old room last year. He smiled slightly at the memory and started to restock them.

"Bloody hell, mate. That's wicked. What'll happen in the trials?" George asked, grabbing his wand to magic the dust off of the shelves.

"Dunno, do I? Never really done one before. We've been slowly putting a bunch of paperwork together to fight for our cases against them all. That's what Ron is up to today. With Narcissa Malfoy, though, I s'pose they should let her free. Draco, too, really. But we'll have to wait and see. Afterwards, I'll be back to day shifts and Ron'll be nights."  
George chuckled again and Harry looked up to read his expression, trying to determine what was funny.

"He'll be fun to be around, won't he? With no sleep and all," George said light-heartedly.

Harry thought about it and groaned, but joined in with George's laughter.

"How is everything with Lee?" Harry asked after a little while of more silent working.

George shrugged half-heartedly. "Been well enough, I s'pose. I think I'm ready, though. You know. I'm sort of ready to get back to _this_."

Harry fell silent, in his head finishing what he knew George wanted to say, but wouldn't be able to bring himself to; _It's what Fred would have wanted._

* * *

Harry sat at the large table, squeezed between an overly talkative Percy and a clearly uncomfortable Ron. The smell and feel of the Burrow settled around him like a warm blanket. Ron's musky scent finished it off, making Harry feel more at home than he had in a long while.

Across from him, George was staring at the food in a contemplative manner. After a moment, he reached forward and spooned a serving of mashed potatoes onto his plate. He added a sausage. Harry watched as he cut the sausage into small pieces and stared at them on his plate. No one but himself would notice that throughout the meal, George would only end up eating one bite of mash and 3 of the small pieces of sausage. Harry couldn't help but smile to himself in acknowledgement that George was finally eating again.

"Is Hermione popping in for Christmas?" Mrs. Weasley asked over the hustle and bustle of the family.

Bill and Fleur turned their attention to Ron, waiting for the answer. Andromeda Tonks, holding baby Teddy, glanced up in curiosity as well.

Ron grimaced as if in pain and gave a non-committal shrug.

"Boxing day?" Mrs. Weasley pressed.

Ron offered the same uncomfortable response, leaving Mrs. Weasley to huff in annoyance and everyone turned back to their meals. This encounter felt odd to Harry. It was true that Ron had been acting very uncomfortable on all levels concerning Hermione, but it didn't seem like him. This was Ron, after all. He finally got Hermione after trying for so long. Shouldn't he have been talking about her non-stop? Shouldn't he be sporting a large grin while answering, "I hope so!" to his mother's question?

Harry tried to shake the odd feeling and go back to eating his bangers and mash, but found that he was _still_ thinking about it even after they'd finished eating, he'd made plans with Andromeda to visit Teddy the following weekend, and they had returned to their apartment. The only conclusion he'd reached by the time he finally drifted off was that, come December and their holiday break, things were going to be quite interesting with Hermione around.

As he slept, Adele arrived home with a letter from Hermione. Reading it the next morning would only confuse him more.

_Harry,  
I miss you. I'm so sorry I've been rubbish at writing you. I've just been utterly swamped preparing for my N.E.W.T.'s. How are you? Harry, I am so proud of you for the capturing that you have been doing, Ron has told me all about it. Please keep safe, though! Ron sounds very worried. I'm sure, however, that when he switches to nights you will be feeling exactly the same. I can't wait to come visit you for break. I really need to speak with you about things. I think I'm really starting to understand why you ended things with Ginny. Things have changed. I think I'm losing Ron. To be honest, Harry, I don't think I'm in the right time of my life or the right mindset to fight for him. I would rather you make him happy than he and I be forcing a relationship that isn't meant to be. I may not be making any sense, but I just need to talk to you about it in person. Take care of him, Harry. And of yourself. I will love these weeks of trials when I know both of you will be safe. :)  
Lots of love, Hermione_

**A/N: To those of you- xxHinaAngelxx, wolfish-willow, mescaline, nikalove345, Brooke Rose, Stardust of Orion, Kenji Hyuga White tiger, and mizzrazz72 (I thought about doing that, but decided to take it a different way. Totally agree with that idea, though!)- that have reviewed with your thoughts and inputs, thank you so much! Reviews let me know how you feel about the story and push me to keep writing.  
**

**I hope you enjoyed this chapter and please leave a review to let me know what you think!  
**


	9. Harry Potter's Statement

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself! Reminder: This is an eventual Slash fic (the slash is just around the corner! :D )**

**Life After War  
Chapter 9  
Harry Potter's Statement  
**

"Will Mr. Harry Potter please come forward for his statement?" announced a short, extremely thin man with thick hair and large eyes by the name of Christopher Polks. He was the current leader for the Council of Magical Law.

It was the thirteenth consecutive day of trials and today was dedicated to the Malfoys, Lestranges, and three other lower-profile Death Eaters. Harry didn't much mind these days of trials. They began each day at eight in the morning and never lasted past three or four in the afternoon, leaving Harry and Ron loads of time to play Quidditch, visit Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, or even drop in to visit Andromeda and Teddy. Plus, due to a much more reliable sleep schedule, Harry was finally feeling back to normal and well rested.

It was not normal for the trials to include a witness. In fact, this was the first time in the past fortnight that there had been one. Usually, the Death Eater was brought up, evidence was presented against them by one Auror or another (usually Cahill or Robards, but sometimes one of the others got a chance for practice), the Death Eater was allowed a moment to try to clear their name (which never actually worked), and then the sentence followed. Most of the sentences had resulted in life in Azkaban, although some had gotten off with only seventy to eighty years.

Harry walked rather gingerly toward the center of the room. He tried to fix a more confident look onto his face as he looked straight at the Council, denying his hand's nervous attempt to flatten his hair or scratch his scar, which he knew would result in the entire room thinking him to be vain or otherwise pompous. He took a small glance at Narcissa and Draco, standing nervously before the room, Draco with his arm draped over his mother's shrunken and defeated shoulders.

"As I cannot trust that you all know the full story, I will relay it for you all to hear now. During the Battle of Hogwarts earlier this past May, Voldemort cast the Killing Curse onto me. While he did kill the part of himself that remained in my body, he was unable to kill _me_. Narcissa Malfoy, after surveying my body and realizing that I was, indeed, alive, lied to Voldemort and, in turn, saved my life. By offering this kindness, she allowed me to be taken back to the castle where I was able to regain my strength enough to battle and defeat him after I revealed that I was alive. I would like it to be acknowledged by you as a Council that this woman took part in not only saving my life, but also in the defeat of Voldemort, himself."

Harry took a deep breath and, out of the corner of his eye, glanced again at Draco. The blonde boy had a pleading look of graciousness that Harry had never seen before. He smiled slightly and then continued.

"As for Draco Malfoy, I have attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with him since I was eleven years old. I do believe that at his current age of eighteen, he is far too young to be convicted of crimes in the same manner as are the rest of the Death Eaters currently on trial. He has always seemed like a boy only trying to make his father happy. I would like it to be acknowledged by you as a Council that I do not agree with the imprisonment of Draco Malfoy, as I believe he is a boy that has been through a lot and means no harm save for the drive to please his own father, as I would assume many have experienced in their own childhoods."

Harry smiled inwardly at his statements, performed just as he'd practiced them countless times in the past week. He met the eye of Mr. Polks and nodded slightly, letting him know silently that he was finished.

"Thank you for you statements, Mr. Potter. We, The Council of Magical Law, will take your statements into account while discussing the sentencing for both Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. You may take your seat," Mr. Polks told him, a gleam of humor and something like pride shined from his large eyes and Harry was reminded for a moment of Dumbledore.

Harry lowered his head slightly and walked back up to his seat between Ron and Albert Hering. Ron patted his knee lightly and Harry unconsciously shifted a little, leaning a little stronger onto Ron who accepted the weight of his friend and opened is shoulder slightly so Harry would be more comfortable. Harry met eyes with Draco for a moment. The look of graciousness had turned from a slight shine to a hard look with more emotion than Harry ever thought possible from the blonde. He offered a small smile and Draco ever-so-slightly nodded in thanks.

* * *

"That was bloody brilliant, mate. You're a better lad than I am, that's for sure," Ron told Harry before taking a large gulp of his tankard full of beer.

Harry chuckled and blushed slightly. He took a drink of his own tankard and noted Ron's flushed face. His friend was thoroughly pissed.

"What did their sentence end up being?" George asked from his seat next to Harry and across from Ron.

"They were released. They were, 'relieved of their criminal acts'. All Harry has to do is bat his eyelashes or sweep his bangs to the side to get what he wants," Ron answered in a light-hearted tone, a smile on his face all the while.

Harry blushed again and tried to fight a smile, but lost. "Git," he muttered playfully, and chuckled again when Ron burst into laughter.

"Oh, honestly, Ronald, that is your _last_ drink," Hermione scolded, clearly annoyed, as she sat back down at their table at the back of The Three Broomsticks.

Ron rolled his eyes in a dramatic way. Harry laughed awkwardly and George looked away as though trying to pretend he didn't know what was happening.

"Shut up, Harry," Ron shot, humor still lining his tone.

Harry laughed again, but this time it was a real laugh. He was a little too drunk to realize why he thought it all so funny. George joined in for no reason and the three boys refused to let Hermione's bad spirits ruin their mood.

After a few more minutes, they all parted ways and went to their respective homes. Harry thought that Hermione would be coming back to their flat with them, as it was her first night back from Hogwarts and he assumed the couple had missed each other too much to spend the night apart. As it happened, he was wrong, though, because once they stepped out onto the snowy street, their coats and scarves wrapped tightly around them, the two kissed swiftly before bidding a small farewell and walking in opposite directions.

Harry gave Ron a questioning look, which the redhead did not seem to catch, and then they walked up the street to their favorite food stand before Apparating home, bellies full and cheeks still flushed from the beer.

"Where is Hermione staying?" Harry asked his friend as they removed their layers of clothing.

"Staying with her parents for a little while. She'll come by for lunch at the Burrow tomorrow, though," Ron answered indifferently.

They sat down on their sofa, sobering up, and Harry watched as Ron's face suddenly lit back up and a large smile returned to it.

"George came out and had a beer with us," Ron said, staring at the ceiling as though in a satisfied awe.

Harry chuckled at the obvious statement and nodded. "S'pose he did,"

Ron nodded, happily. After a while, his smile started to fade and his face turned to a more thoughtful expression.

"Why'd you break things off with my sister? I know you told Hermione, but you never_ really_ told me. Hermione keeps throwing it in my face like, 'maybe Harry was onto something' and 'I think we should follow Harry's example'. Bloody bird has lost me, per usual," Ron said, not entirely bitterly but with more of a curious tone, still staring at the ceiling.

Harry shrugged, trying to measure the situation and decide if it was his place to tell his friend. He decided that he would explain it, wondering if Hermione already thought that Ron _did_ know.

"Everything changed, mate. I really loved Ginny. But after everything that happened I started to wonder if maybe we had rushed into it, you know? Like we thought we would die, so we just latched onto a relationship just in case. It was also like I didn't know if she would get how I'd changed. I mean…I mean, Ron, I _died_. Voldemort _killed_ me. And then, before I knew it, I'd killed _him_. I _destroyed_ him. I killed another human being…well I mean, I'm using that term loosely, he was far from human, but you know what I mean. It just seemed trivial to stay in a relationship with a girl I'd dated when I was sixteen. I didn't want to ruin any chance of a friendship, so I just figured I wouldn't drag it out. That probably doesn't make any sense but-"

"It does. It does make sense. I reckon you had the right idea. About rushing into things and ruining a chance at a friendship. Hermione's right, I think. And you aren't a killer, Harry. You are far from it," Ron said seriously, finally meeting Harry's eyes instead of staring at the ceiling.

Harry smirked. "Obviously. I'm the Savior, haven't you heard?" he said bitterly as though the word 'Savior' had a taste like plain coffee beans.

"Oh, shut up, will you? Who cares what the stupid Wizarding World calls you. You saved me. You saved Hermione. You saved my family, George included who is finally recovering. Shouldn't _that_ be enough?" Ron asked, his hand patting Harry's knee again like he had at the trial.

He didn't respond, but inside, fireworks were releasing all over Harry's body. _Yes. It was _more_ than enough._

__**Please leave a little review :)  
**


	10. Statement of the Year

**Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot! Everything else comes from the brilliant mind of J.K. Rowling, herself! Reminder: This is a Slash fic finnalllyyyy  
**

**Life After War  
Chapter 10  
Phrase of the year  
**

"Are we meeting Hermione at the Burrow?" Harry asked, sitting on their couch and playing with his snitch as he watched Ron dart from bathroom to bedroom and back again.

"S'pose we will, yeah," Ron answered, his tone ringing in an annoyed and noncommittal way.

Harry felt the need to offer his support, but didn't quite know how to go about it. What he meant to sound supportive ended coming out as, "Er...Ron...I'm here, you know...if you-"

Harry was cut short by an annoyed and shirtless Ron standing in front of where he sat on the sofa. The redhead was giving him an incredulous and angered look, intended to convey his annoyance with Harry. Instead, it drew his eyes to the freckles on Ron's nose and made him smile at the way the redhead's brow was furrowed, forehead wrinkled, and the small specks of darker blues in his relatively light blue eyes. For a moment all Harry could do was stare at these small traits that made up his best friend's face and it made him smile and wonder how he'd never noticed.

"You're laughing?! Oh, shut up, Harry," Ron said, rolling his eyes in surrender and walking away.

Harry continued chuckling and shook his head.

* * *

"I know, we're sorry. Harry's beauty routine takes time," Ron told everyone as they all sat down for dinner at the Burrow.

Harry shook his head and let out a small laugh. "You are barking mad, mate."

Ron grinned and offered Harry a wink before they all settled down and tucked into their meals.

Harry sat between Ginny and Ron. Hermione and George sat across from them and Harry couldn't help but watch in curiosity as Hermione said something to George under her breath and then loaded his plate with assorted foods from the table. George pursed his lips slightly and shook his head. Hermione shushed him and then met his eyes. They shared a silent look and then George's face relaxed and he relented, taking a bite of food. Hermione's gaze turned to her own plate while her face lit up. When she looked up, she seemed surprised and blushed with embarrassment that Harry had seen the exchange.

"So we have the photo shoot on Saturday?" Harry asked, trying not to make a big deal out of the exchange he'd seen.

Hermione smiled. "Yes, so you and Ron should wear your best Auror's robes."

"What photo shoot will this be for?" Mr. Weasley asked.

"They're going to be on Collector's Cards for Chocolate Frogs, Arthur!" Mrs. Weasley explained with more enthusiasm than Harry had seen from her in a while.

Harry looked over at Ron and found that his friend was blushing a deep shade of red, while sporting a very large and very genuine smile. It brought a smile to his own lips.

"My best accomplishment," Ron said quietly.

The table broke out into several different conversations surrounding the exciting topic of the upcoming photo shoot. Harry watched and listened quietly while he ate his lunch. When he had dished out his second serving, Ginny brought him into a conversation that he hadn't quite been expecting.

"How have you been, Harry," she asked.

"I've been well, Ginny. How are you? How is Hogwarts?"

"The same...only different somehow. Strange without Dumbledore and without a looming or occurring war. Strange being the sole Weasley left," she answered honestly. She met his eyes and gave him the blazing look he'd grown accustomed to seeing on her face.

"Everything's changed," Harry said, repeating his words from the night he'd broken everything off with her months before.

"There, yes. Here, too?"

Again, her vague question left him wondering whether she was talking about life in general or the two of them as a couple. Either way, the answer was the same.

"Yes, Gin. Here, too."

She didn't break her gaze for a few moments. He took her hand. He offered her apology and sorrow, understanding and finality, all silent from his eyes to hers. Finally, she nodded ever-so-slightly and excused herself gently from the table. He tried not to notice the wetness in her eyes before she left, but it was a useless effort.

* * *

Harry woke with a start, his heart racing. He thought he'd had a bad dream, but realized that Ron was screaming from his room. Panicked, he raced out of his bed and flung the door open to Ron's bedroom. Ron was writhing on the bed, repeating "no, no, no," over and over again at the top of his lungs.

Harry went to the side of the bed and put his arms around Ron's shoulder's to calm him. "Wake up, mate. Ron, it's alright, wake up," he whispered softly. Sweat drenched Ron's face and hair and his back was sticky through his night clothes. This was the third nightmare this week. Harry had been wondering how long these had been occurring. They could have been going on for weeks and Harry would have had no idea as he had been working at night.

Slowly, Ron started to come out of it. When he opened his eyes, they looked at Harry with such intense fear that it made Harry's stomach turn. He held on to his friend tighter and sat on the bed to get closer until Ron had a chance to come back to reality. After a moment, he felt Ron's whole body relax.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ron offered, ashamed and embarrassed.

Harry shook his head. "Git. As though you can control what you dream about."

Ron sighed heavily. "I'm going to get a glass of water."

Harry followed his friend out to their kitchen and they sat at the table for a few moments over cups of water. Harry couldn't tare his eyes away from Ron. He felt defeated. He needed to find a way to help his friend. It was killing him to see the redhead in this state so often. It was killing him to see such fear and emptiness in those blue eyes. He wanted more than anything to take the pain away.

"Hermione and I broke up."

Harry was slightly startled with this out-of-nowhere comment. He gave Ron a silent look of question to signal him to continue.

"Actually, mate...really, we...well, we sort of broke up a while ago. We agreed through letters that it was sort of done, at least for the moment. But then, when she came back and we actually saw each other, we realized it was more than just for the moment. More like...indefinitely," he grumbled.

"I'm sorry, Ron," Harry offered, not quite knowing what else to say.

Ron met Harry's eyes and his face scrunched up on one side as he shrugged it off. "I'm not. Not really, anyway. We were bound to muck up our friendship if we stayed together. I just...I thought it was going to be different. Maybe it would have. But now, too much has changed."

Harry smirked. Wasn't that just the statement of the year.

They sat in silence for a little while and then Harry reached out and grabbed Ron's hand. Ron didn't pull away. Minutes passed while they both sat staring at their hands, resting together on the table. Eventually, Harry put their cups in the sink and grabbed Ron's shoulders to signal that it was time to go back up to bed. Ron stood, but made no move toward the door. Instead, he turned to face Harry and looked him in the eyes.

Pained, scared, tired blue eyes met curious, sorrowful, deep green ones. And then lightly and slowly Ron leaned in and pressed his lips to Harry's.

It was over practically before it had begun. Ron pulled away and Harry noticed that his friend was pale and shaking. Ron swallowed hard and then turned and ran into their bathroom, slamming the door behind himself. It took Harry a moment before he was able to digest what had just happened. Then he took a deep breath and started towards the bathroom.

"Ron," Harry said calmly and quietly. "Ron, come out of there."

When there was no response, Harry knocked on the door lightly. After a few minutes had passed, Harry said more forcefully, "Ron, honestly, come out of the bloody bathroom."

Nothing. So Harry resigned himself to sitting guard, deciding to just wait for when Ron came out to go back to bed. He summoned his snitch and played with it for a while, waiting quietly and as patiently as he could. After over half an hour of waiting, a tapping sounded at Harry's bedroom window. He glanced in through his doorway and saw a small brown owl sitting on his window sill. He turned his attention back to the bathroom door and glared at it, wishing said door would cower at his expression and fling open so that he could see his best friend. When nothing happened, he sighed heavily and shook his head, standing slowly and going to his window.

_Harry,  
I understand that the hour is quite late and I must've woken you. I apologize for this. I am writing to send you on a mission. It may be more productive to approach this in a more professional manner, however I am afraid that on this occasion, I must surrender my position as Minister in order to ask you to do a very personal favor. That being said, I must ask you very sincerely to keep this confidential. No one, not even Auror Weasley, can know of this mission. It will be tedious work, Harry, and very dangerous, but it must be done and it must be done tonight. If you receive this letter and agree to help me, please come straight to my office so that we can discuss the mission in private and face to face. I'm sorry, but I must request that, if possible, Mr. Weasley not even be informed of your absence. This needs to all happen as fast as possible.  
Very humbly in need of your services,__ K. Shaklebolt  
_

Harry read through the letter twice more before closing his eyes in frustration, rubbing his forehead, and changing into his Auror robes. He walked quietly and carefully into the front room and Apparated to the Ministry of Magic. He walked swiftly to Shaklebolt's office and knocked firmly on the closed door. After a moment, the door opened and a look of pride worn by the Minister himself shined down at Harry, making him grimace and shift uncomfortably.

"Sir?" Harry asked as he followed Shaklebolt into his office, sitting down in a chair Shaklebolt gestured to.

Shaklebolt paced around the room while he spoke, an action that both distracted as well as worried Harry. When he spoke it wasn't calmly or slowly like usual, but rushed and tense.

"Harry, I've got to say I'm so glad you've come. That's not to say that I didn't expect you would, I knew very well that you would, I'm just relieved and grateful to you, Harry, very grateful. Harry, I've got to ask you to go a mission that only you will be involved in. I would create a larger team, but this is a very touchy subject, and it has a lot people very uncomfortable. But I'm hoping you will put this past you and help me right was has become very wrong."

Harry shifted, nervous about what was to be next out of Shakelbolt's mouth. The Minister stopped pacing and made his way purposefully over to a seat next to Harry. He faced him and met Harry's eyes with his own, pleading silently as much as he was verbally.

"Severus Snape suffered the death of a dark man; a main role in Voldemort's army; a man whom is only discussed negatively. I know that Severus may have made some bad choices in his life and I know that he was, by no means, an angel. I'm aware that you did not have a good relationship with him, and I do not blame you for that, Harry. I assume that you know that he was doing the right thing. His intentions were pure. I'm afraid that, as one of Severus' oldest friends, it is hard for me to stand by and see his name tarnished. There is a way that we will be able to fix it, though, Harry. We need to get to the Shrieking Shack. I need your help. And it has to be done tonight."

* * *

Two days and way too much fighting and commotion later, Harry wiped at his face, trying to clean himself up a bit before leaving the Ministry to Apparate home. He swatted distractedly at his robes in a slight attempt at ridding them of soot and dirt. He righted his glasses onto his face, wanting badly to use a thousand spells to put himself back in order, but feeling much too shaken up and in a hurry to get home. The only thing he could think about was getting home, settling down with a glass of firewhiskey and recounting his last two days to Ron. He had a very pulling urge to be at home with his best friend. He felt uneasy and a bit nauseous, but he pulled out his wand and Apparated home.

He was not entirely shocked to find himself in front of the door to his neighbor's flat, being that he felt a touch off and realized his magic would reflect that. He walked to the correct door and did not hesitate to walk in, needing to see a set of bright blue eyes that might help to calm his uneasy mood. His heart dropped when he walked into the sitting room.

Ron was pacing in front of the fire place, his hands at the sides of his head as if trying to isolate himself from the world, his face screwed up so tightly that Harry wondered if it hurt. Standing nearby as though trying to console him, Ginny and Hermione were watching the devastated redheaded, holding their arms stretched out slightly toward him. George and Mr. Weasley were seated on the sofa, both of them leaning forward with their arms on their knees and their heads in their hands. Harry heard the slight clatter of someone putting together a tray of tea in the kitchen and knew immediately that it was Mrs. Weasley. Harry paused for only a moment to take it all in. And then instinctively he walked towards Ron.

Hearing the door close and the footsteps that followed, Ron looked up. His eyes were scrunched up in pain, his body tense. The moment he saw those green eyes, his shoulders drooped in relief. His chest caved in and he let out a breath so full of fear that it pulled at Harry's heart. But the pain that had set up residence in Ron's tortured face had begun to subside, being replaced by a sort of calm and peace that removed every ounce of unease and anxiety from Harry's body and mind.

Frozen in place, his eyes locked with Ron's, he jumped slightly when he felt Ginny wrap her arms around him. He tore his eyes away from Ron's to examine Ginny. She wasn't crying, but she held her blazing look and kissed him on the cheek. She wiped at his chin a little, probably to remove a bit of dirt. She stepped away and walked quietly into the kitchen letting Hermione take her turn, hugging him tightly and whispering, "Oh, Harry, we were so worried," before also kissing his cheek.

"I'm alright," he murmured to her lightly.

He was passed forwards to George, who gave him a hard pat on the back, and then Mr. Weasley, who hugged him tightly and mumbled about how worried they were, indeed. While still in an Arthur Weasley hug, Harry heard a loud shriek and a cry. He looked into the doorway of the kitchen to find Mrs. Weasley mid-sob, her eyes swollen and blood-shot and her apron covered in tea.

Harry walked over to her swiftly and allowed her to truly hold onto him, knowing it would help her feel a bit better and letting her soothe him as well. "Oh, Harry, dear, you gave us such a scare. I couldn't bare to think of what could have happened..."

After several moments in her embrace, Harry asked quietly, "Mrs. Weasley? I'd like to go say hi to Ron, now, if that's alright."

She sniffled and smiled. "Of course, dear, of course. We'll just go fix the tea. Arthur can pull up a few more seats for the kitchen, so just come in when you're ready dears," she told him, glancing at Ron as well.

Harry was going to wait until everyone had filed into the kitchen, but he could feel his nausea sneaking back up his throat and knew he just need to be with Ron. As soon as Mrs. Weasley let him go, he found himself making his way to Ron, who still stood frozen in front of the fireplace. When he got to the redhead, he stood carefully in front of him.

"Hi," Harry said lightly, offering a small smile.

"Hi," Ron replied, not amused. "Have you got any idea what you have put everyone through the past few days?"

Harry grimaced. "I know, Ron, I'm sorry. It wasn't on purpose. It was from Shacklebolt, though. Non-negotiable," he explained, trying to rid any thoughts that Ron might have about Harry leaving because of their kiss.

Instead of replying, Ron just stared at the ground with a look of anger, but Harry could see the relief in his eyes. He reached out and grabbed Ron's chin lightly, pulling at his pouting lip. Ron looked up at Harry and visibly relaxed, his body slouching slightly. He wiped at the bridge of Harry's nose. Slowly and carefully, Harry pulled Ron into a hug, wrapping his arms around the taller man's middle and sighing with contentment when he felt Ron's hands on his back in return. Ron rested his cheek on top of Harry's hair and let out a long breath.

Confused with how he felt and everything that was happening, Harry pulled away after a few moments and looked up at Ron. They shared a look, baring themselves to one another. And before either could stop it, they had kissed. It was short and small, just Harry's lips touching Ron's for a fraction of a moment, but it was enough.

After they pulled away, they avoided each others' gaze and turned toward the kitchen. Once they had sat down and had a few sips of tea, Harry recounted his night for them. He told them about going to the Shrieking Shack and how they had discovered a few Death Eaters in hiding, waiting for them to arrive. He told them about all of Snape's belongings that had been boxed and hidden inside and about how they had gone about retrieving memories about Snape from those Death Eaters. He told them about his trip back into the castle to find the memory that Snape had given him before he died. He apologized for the intended one night mission that had lasted nearly two days. Toward the end of the night, before everyone prepared to go back to their respective homes, Ron reached out and placed his arm around Harry's shoulders. Together they walked their guests to the fireplace and shared hugs and goodbyes. If anyone had noticed those intertwined hands or peaceful calm that had settled into green and blue eyes, they didn't mention it. It could all be discussed at another time.


End file.
